


flower boy

by cobiethinker



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Pining, art student kevin, but it’s so cute, flower shop owner jacob, i wrote this for my friend tho, this is just soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:47:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29832750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cobiethinker/pseuds/cobiethinker
Summary: Kevin had always been enamored by Jacob, the cute owner of the flower shop across from the cafe he likes. He decides to visit one day, and accidentally leaves his sketchbook there. That just so happens to be full of drawings of Jacob.
Relationships: Bae Joonyoung | Jacob/Moon Hyungseo | Kevin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 59





	flower boy

**Author's Note:**

> hi !! i wrote this for my friend after tbz posted pictures on instagram and it made us think of flower shop cobie and artist kevin so i hope you enjoy!

It was cloudy but still bright outside that day, and Kevin was spending it basking in the sunlight shining through the window of a cafe on his college’s campus. 

But it just so happened that the window he was sitting by had a direct view to the flower shop across the street, along with the cute florist who spent so many hours working behind the counter. 

That was how Kevin spent a lot of his free time, sipping on his coffee, pages of his sketchbook spread open as he moved his pencil over the page. He had become quite accustomed to the florist’s face, and had decided to start drawing him in every lighting, every setting, with every expression imaginable. Kevin was fascinated by the florist’s bright smile, the look of warmth in his eyes as he greeted customers, and the way he had a habit of running his fingers through his hair to push it away from his face while he worked.

All of this had Kevin falling head over heels for a man he’d never even met. 

Sure, it was a bit questionable to regularly draw the florist when Kevin sat at the cafe, but he drew the street and the scenery too, so he placed it under simply practicing techniques. He had never been particularly good at drawing people, but something about the florist outside the small bubble of Kevin’s world made him desperate to capture his face on paper. 

“Oh shit,” Kevin mumbled to himself, looking up from the slowly filling sketchbook to check the time on his phone. He had a class in around an hour, which left plenty of time to make his way across campus. Packing away his paper and pencils, he picked his bag up, draining the last of his coffee before throwing away the cup as he walked out. Impulsively, Kevin decided to visit the flower shop across the street. 

“Hello!” A cheery, familiar voice drifted from the back of the shop. “Is there anything I can help you with today?”    
  
Kevin had walked in a few times, but had chosen to simply look through the store, admiring the delicate arrangements of daisies and roses that were strewn across the shelves. Each bouquet seemed perfect down to every last petal, down to every last leaf and stem in the way they were placed together with so much care. He knew that it must be the work of the florist that he had taken a liking to, and he knew that his hands must be as gentle as his eyes. 

“No thank you, I’m just looking,” Kevin responded politely, feet carrying him nowhere in particular as he tried to figure out where the gentle voice was coming from. “Your arrangements are rather beautiful, by the way.” 

“Thank you! I spend a lot of time on them,” A head of blonde hair poked over a row of tulips in the back, and the warmth that spread through Kevin’s chest as the florist smiled at him was indescribable. If his smile looked heavenly from across the street, nothing could compare to seeing it up close. “If you need anything specific, just let me know, I’d be happy to help.” 

Nodding, Kevin chose to let the silence settle as he saw the florist’s head bow back down to what he was working on, hair flopping in front of his eyes as he hummed a soft melody to himself. Kevin recognized it immediately, it was one of his favorite songs, and a small wave of affection rolled through him at the thought of him and the florist having something in common. 

Kevin set his bag down on the bench by the door of the building, crossing his arms over his chest as he continued to scan the rows upon rows of gorgeous arrangements. He didn’t particularly like flowers, he had never cared for them, but something about the way the florist seemed to put them togheter with so much effort, so much care, made Kevin want to admire every single one of them. A few looked older, like they were on the verge of wilting, and Kevin had the thought that he would buy every last one of them if it made the florist happy. 

A ping from his phone in his back pocket drew his attention to the time, realizing he now had 20 minutes to make it across campus.  _ Great _ . Making his way back to the door he hastily picked up his bag, throwing the strap over his shoulder before making his way out. 

“Thank you for coming! I hope to see you again!” He heard the florist's voice echo as the door rang, alerting him that Kevin was leaving. 

“I’ll stop by again when I have more time to look, I have to get to my class, I’m sorry,” Kevin hastily apologized before letting the door close behind him, taking a deep breath of the light breeze blowing. “I’m  _ really _ sorry I didn’t even ask your name, flower boy.”

\---

It was another ordinary day for Jacob, a few customers traipsing through his shop as he smiled politely while they browsed different bouquets. It was a common occurrence for people to walk in, smile, and walk back out. Not many people tend to come to his shop specifically for anything, instead opting to walk around in admiration before making their way back into the busy street. 

Which is why he isn’t surprised when the man that usually sits in the window seat of the coffee shop traipses in, bag slung over his shoulder and his wavy hair swept back into a messy ponytail. He says his customary greeting, extending an offer of help if the dark haired man needs it, before he simply watches him walk through the aisles. The look of adoration for Jacob’s work is written clearly on the man’s face, a sense of amazement adorning his features. Jacob knows how much time he spent on those, but the man in the front of his store does not, although it seemed like he could tell how gently and carefully each one was put together. 

Jacob pretended to busy himself with something in one of the back rows, but kept an eye on the man. Then, as if out of nowhere, he heard a mumbled curse before the bell to the door rang in warning. He said his usual goodbye, the other smiling in return, as if apologizing for rushing out without buying anything. And just like that, the mystery man from the cafe slipped right through Jacob’s fingertips. 

But later that evening, as he was grabbing his coat to leave, he noticed a leather sketchbook resting on the bench, wrapped with a small piece of string to bind it shut. It looked aged and worn, almost as if it were just to hold drawings, and the pages inside had simply been replaced when the owner ran out of room. Scanning the outside, he couldn’t find any indication of a name, so he quickly undid the string to peak on the inside of the cover. Jacob certainly didn’t want to invade anyone’s privacy, even if they would never find out. With no name printed on the book, he set it on the counter, deciding to leave it in case someone came within the next few days to find it. 

Although no one came. No one asked about an old sketchbook, no one came in search of a lost item. It sat ownerless on the counter of the flower shop for around 3 days before Jacob decided to undo the string, carefully unwrapping it before he cracked the pages open to peak inside.    
  
What he saw blew his mind in just one too many ways to count. 

\---

“Oh  _ God _ ,” Kevin muttered, hands stressing through his hair as he looked at the emptied contents of his bag on his bed. “Where did it even go?” 

Although he was alone, asking no one felt better than frantically searching in silence. He had misplaced his favorite sketchbook, specifically one filled with the drawings of the florist across the street from the cafe, and he wasn’t quite sure where. He had already gone to look at the cafe, searching his usual spot before asking the employees if they had seen it, to which they apologized profusely for the lack of Kevin’s belongings. He had shaken his head, telling them he didn’t think he left it there anyways.    
  
And so he spent a good few days with the thought of where his sketchbook could be gnawing at the back of his mind, drilling into his brain until he had an epiphany in the middle of an arts history lecture. 

The flower shop. He had set his bag down on the bench while he was looking. That was the only logical place it could be. 

As soon as Kevin had free time, he made his way down to the cafe, quickly buying himself a coffee before he stepped back out into the warm sun. He swiftly crossed the street, heart beginning to race as he approached the door. Taking a deep breath, he swung the door open, stepping in and letting it shut gently behind him. 

“Hi! How can I- oh, it’s you again,” The florist’s head poked up from behind the counter, voice going soft as his lips formed a small  _ o _ shape. God, Kevin wanted to kiss that shocked expression right off his perfect face. “Is there anything I can do for you?”    
  
“A-actually,” Kevin mentally cursed himself for the stutter in his voice as he approached the counter. “I think I may have misplaced my sketchbook, and this is the last place I thought to look for it, since it’s not anywhere else I usually go.”    
  
“It’s not by your little window spot in the cafe?” The florist teased, eyes scrunching up as he smiled, a bright flash of teeth making Kevin’s heart thud in his chest. “You like to spend a lot of time there, don’t you?” 

Kevin nodded, smiling back politely. “I love the way the sun hits that spot, and I love being able to watch the business of the street. It’s perfect for me.” 

The other nodded, reaching down below the counter before producing Kevin’s sketchbook, string still tied tight around it. Kevin let out a sigh of relief, shoulders visibly relaxing before he took it from the florist. 

“Thank you so much! This is my favorite sketchbook, it’s very.. personal to me, so I’m glad I didn’t lose it for good,” Kevin struggled to explain the significance of the sketchbook without downright saying it was full of drawings of the man who had found it. “I really appreciate it, and I’ll get out of your hair now so you can keep working.”    
  
Laughing lightly, Kevin slipped the sketchbook back into his bag before stepping backwards towards the door, offering the florist a small wave and a smile. “I’ll see you another time, have a good day.”    
  
“You too!” The other called out, waving politely as Kevin nudged the door open. “Oh, and by the way.” 

Kevin paused, turning back to the florist and cocking his head to the side in question.    
  
“Your drawings are lovely. You really have a way with a pencil, don’t you?”    
  
Kevin’s jaw dropped, eyes widening as he quickly scrambled out of the store, moving as fast as his feet would carry him before he stopped at a bench just down the street, sitting down to catch his breath. 

So the man he’d been drawing from across the street now knew about it. Great. 

\---

Jacob had never been one for theatrics, but seeing the look on the mystery man’s face as he darted out the door of his shop was pretty rewarding.    
  
He had debated if he should mention what was in the sketchbook, if the artist would find it too invasive that he looked inside, but to be fair, the other was the one who left it in his possession for three days. It was only logical that he had looked inside for information about a possible owner of the obviously loved sketchbook. 

A smile stayed present on Jacob’s face for the rest of the day, thinking about the man that seemed to have an affinity for drawing him. They really were rather wonderful drawings, perfectly capturing his face at different times, doing different things. But all in all, he had wanted to know more about that man for a while. He would sit in that same cafe seat, with the same cup of coffee in his hand, nearly every day. Jacob wondered if he went there just to see him from across the street. 

The next day, he wasn’t surprised when he looked up from the bouquet of daffodils he was working with to see the artist in his claimed seat, hair tied back messily as he leaned intently over whatever he was working on. Was it another drawing of him? Had he decided to quit drawing Jacob after he saw himself in the sketchbook, and he wouldn’t make such beautiful art out of him?    
  
Throughout the time that the other man sat in the cafe, Jacob watched him from the corner of his eye, noticing that the other would look up and out into the street every so often, looking almost contemplative. He wondered what the artist could be so deep in thought about. 

On a whim, Jacob decided to close the shop up early, while the other man was still at the cafe, and quickly made his way across the street before ordering his coffee. He smiled at the barista, muttering a small thank you before he decided to make the first bold move between himself and the artist. 

“Mind if I sit?” Jacob asked politely, tilting his head to the side as he watched the other man’s head dart up from where he had it buried in his sketchbook. His earlier hunch had been correct; it looked like the artist was still working on the last filled page of the sketchbook Jacob had seen, which was, of course, himself. 

The other stuttered over a small  _ go ahead _ before Jacob pulled the chair across from him out enough to sink down in it. Glancing out the window, he took a deep breath before speaking.    
  
“This is a nice spot,” The artist had wide eyes as he tried to shut his sketchbook as discreetly as possible, but Jacob still noticed. He looked around, eyes moving across the street to his own flower shop. “I can see why you love it so much.” 

Nodding, the other man picked up his drink shakily and took a small sip, almost to calm himself rather than to simply drink his coffee. 

“So, Mr. Artist,” Jacob smiled at the other before he leaned forward, resting his head in his chin dangerously close to the artist’s face. “Do you have a name?”    
  
“Kevin,” He said shakily, eyes unsure where to go under the scrutiny of Jacob’s gaze. “Kevin Moon.”    
  
“Well, Kevin Moon, you make very lovely drawings of me,” Jacob teased, clearly having fun with this. But as much as he was teasing, he was still nervous himself. Kevin was absolutely gorgeous, his sharp jaw contrasting with the softness of his cheeks, and Jacob had an urge to pinch them that he couldn’t quite explain. His black hair was wavy, hastily pulled back with two bleach blonde pieces left out to frame his face. It was messy, but it was so authentically  _ him _ that Jacob couldn’t describe how pretty he was. It just fit him so perfectly.

“T-Thank you,” Kevin seemed unsure if Jacob was upset or not, expression teetering between being terrified and being excited. “I’m sorry if-”    
  
“No need,” Jacob smiled sweetly, leaning back in his chair before giving Kevin a soft look. “You know I’ve been looking at you through  _ my _ window too, right? Although I’m definitely not as talented as you, my little artist.”   
  
A blush took over Kevin’s face, wide eyes darting down to the neglected sketchbook that lay to the side of him. He scratched the back of his neck, mouth opening before snapping shut again as he considered what to say. Jacob thought it was absolutely  _ adorable _ .    
  
“I’m glad you like them,” The artist’s voice was so incredibly small, head bowing slightly before he took a deep breath and attempted to let his shoulders relax. “I’m glad you’re not, you know... freaked out by it. I’m sorry if it seems weird, but something about you made we want to draw you. You’re absolutely gorgeous, everything about you is, and after watching all the expressions your face can make, I was just way too compelled to draw you to  _ not _ do it.”    
  
Kevin smiled sheepishly when he was done, the blush returning to dust his cheeks a lovely shade of pink. “Sorry, I’m rambling...”

“That,” The florist starts, and he can see the hint of fear in Kevin’s eyes. “Was the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. I don’t know how my face of all things can make you want to do that, but that’s literally so adorable, Kevin.”    
  
Shrugging, the artist looked down sheepishly at his drink before he had a thought, immediately sitting all the way back up and grabbing the sketchbook.    
  
“Would you wanna see them? They’re not too good, but they’re not the worst. Nothing could ever do you justice.”   


Nodding Jacob took the sketchbook from Kevin, untying it gently before he cracked the spine open and laid it flat on the table. He flipped through the pages gently, admiring the artist’s work as he saw himself in so many different lightings, situations, and moods that he was awestruck. Kevin managed to capture him perfectly, down to the very last detail, and it blew the florist’s mind.    
  
“I’m sorry for even looking in here to begin with, by the way,” Jacob paused between pages, looking up to see an incredibly flustered Kevin. He decided he liked making the artist flustered. “I was just looking for any sort of identifier, and when I saw my own face I kinda just, kept looking.” 

Kevin shook his head quickly, muttering a small  _ it’s fine _ before silence settled over the two once again, only interrupted by the occasional ruffling of pages as Jacob skimmed through the many pieces of art. Until he heard a small giggle from the man across from him, and his heart fluttered the tiniest bit. 

“Isn’t this a little funny?” Kevin tilted his head to the side in thought. “We had both been kinda watching each other without even realizing, hadn’t we?”    
  
Jacob nodded, smiling gently as the warm smile stayed on Kevin’s face. He looked at one drawing in particular, and he almost remembered that day. It had been ridiculously windy out, and Jacob had been making mixed arrangements for tables at a couple’s wedding. He remembered it being that day specifically because of the fact that he had tied his hair back away from his face, which he normally didn’t do, but Kevin had managed to capture it perfectly. 

“I always thought of you as the cute art kid who always sat and drank coffee,” Jacob spoke up quietly, eyes still fixed on the drawings in front of him. “I always saw you with your sketchbook, and I always thought it was adorable when you’d look out the window and you’d always have the end of the pencil on your mouth.” 

“That’s...” Kevin trailed off, mumbling to himself as he blushed deeply. “That’s incredible.”    
  
“Well, now that we’re here and we know each other, how about you tell me a bit about yourself? Or I’ll go first, if it’ll make you more comfortable,” Jacob gently closed the sketchbook, tying it gracefully before sliding it across the table to Kevin, who’s eyes widened. 

That was when it all began. Kevin was always so cute when he started talking, Jacob thought, because as soon as he started it was like he was in his own little world and nothing could interrupt him. They had spent hours upon hours sitting at that cafe together, into the early parts of the morning sometimes, just listening to each other talk as they learned more about each other. Coffee dates quickly turned into real dates, until they moved up to movie dates and Kevin spent the night at the florist’s wonderfully decorated apartment. 

(Of course it was covered in plants and bouquets. What else would Jacob put in there?) 

  
It was around a month and a half later, when Kevin was introducing him to a close friend and he realized that he had no idea what to call Jacob. Obviously they were exclusive at that point, but they had never discussed labels. 

So, as they were curled up in Kevin’s bed one night, the artist sleepily brought up the subject on a whim. 

“Cobie,” Kevin mumbled sleepily into the fabric of the florist’s shirt that he was clinging on to. “What are we?”    
  
Jacob hummed, hands working through the artist’s hair as he looked up at the florist. It’s not like neither of them wanted labels on their relationship to make it completely official, they were both content with where they were and it had never seemed like an issue. But Kevin would be lying if he said it didn’t bother him sometimes that he was too afraid to call Jacob his  _ boyfriend _ , too afraid of making him uncomfortable by putting him in a position he didn’t want to be in. 

“Well what do you want us to be, baby?” Jacob’s fondness for pet names never failed to make Kevin’s heart beat just a little bit faster as he smiled slightly. “I want whatever you’ll give me.”    
  
“I wanna call you my boyfriend,” Kevin said in a small voice. “I wanna be able to tell people you’re mine, and call you mine, and I wanna show you off to everyone.”    
  
The artist could feel the laughter bubbling up from Jacob’s chest, a low, warm tone that soothed him. He picked his head up slightly to look at the florist, just to make sure it was good laughter and not in a condescending way, but the look on Jacob’s face was absolutely perfect. He had the biggest grin on his face, eyes scrunched up because of how wide he was smiling. 

“Of course, Binnie,” Jacob placed a chaste kiss to the tip of Kevin’s nose. “Anything for you. You’re my everything.”    
  
“And you’re mine, Cobie,” Kevin’s heart fluttered as an overwhelming sense of love overtook him, the feeling of being loved just as much as you love someone overwhelming in the best possible way. “My flower boy.”    
  
“My little artist,” Jacob returned affectionately before he kissed Kevin deeply, pulling away to brush a thumb gently over his cheek. “Now, let’s get to bed, it’s getting late.”    
  
“Goodnight, Jacob.”    
  
“Goodnight, baby.”  And after a second thought. 

“I love you, Cobie. So much.”    
  
“I love you too, so much.” 


End file.
